Little Wonders
by victoireremains
Summary: When there's no one left for Hermione to turn to, the least expected person will show up. To her great surprise, there's something behind the cold mask that he's been wearing ever since. And Hermione is determined to unfold every secret he have kept.


Little Wonders

**Little Wonders**

by:

**Victoireremains**

All she could do was cry. At the corner of an exquisite room painted with deep crimson, Hermione was settled on the carpeted floor hugging her knees. For one second, she had thought her birthday would be great but, it was all too clear this would not be so; she would lose something of value. Mad at the world, parchments that were piled neatly on her antique desk were now scattered all over her bedroom, empty inkbottles shattered leaving black ink blots on the floor. She knew perfectly well that she'd be in trouble with all the mess she made but, the consequences were insignificant.

As Hermione sensed another tear brushing her porcelain cheek, she quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand. She thought back to something he had once told her, "Never let weakness dominate the power of joy that stays within." _Oh Dad._ Hermione buried her face in her hands; palm over her eyes, tears of great sorrow flowing uncontrollably. The flashback seemed so real that she wanted it never to vanish. How could she not express her weakness when the cause of her helplessness was to lose someone she loved so much?

An hour of utmost gloominess ended when she heard the portrait slid open. She knew who it was and for the love of Merlin, she wouldn't continue to argue if ever he would bring up one. Stretching her tense arms towards the ceiling, the door suddenly blew open, picture frames of former Heads nailed on the wall quaked with the impact. Draco Malfoy, the Head Boy opposite the Head Girl, Hermione, stared at her with extreme disgust.

"What the hell did you do, Granger?"

Draco shouted, throwing his satchel on the floor. Looking around the Head Girl's room, he was a hundred percent sure she had done something that only someone completely daft would do.

Hermione winced as the harsh tone resounded inside her eardrums. If ever he knew that mourning for a loved one wasn't daft, maybe he wouldn't have shouted. Draco was Lucius' son, which surely would skew his compassion in regards to emotions.

"Look at all the stains you made," he whined, kneeling down on the floor, rubbing a blot with his finger. "You're going to have a right time getting these out! Mrs. Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover definitely won't be enough to do the trick."

"It doesn't concern you. I'll clean this all by myself."

"Oh come on Mudblood, as if I was lending a helping hand for you!" Draco smirked. Hermione threw him a dirty look. _Well as if I'm asking for your pity. _

"Get out of my room! Don't you know you are off-limits within three meters from my door?" she retorted as she walked towards the threshold of the room. Letting out a gruff sigh, Draco grabbed his satchel and walked passed Hermione. Before he crossed the threshold he turned to her and said, "I know what happened regarding your birthday, Granger."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione blinked a few times, her eyes wide. The incident was supposed to be a secret; then again secrets within Hogwarts were likely to spread as fast as Dragon Pox.

Draco lowered, his eyes looking at her intently. Hermione gulped and gazed somewhere just beyond his ear. He always knew how to make her feel uncomfortable and he was glad of it. It was one of the Malfoy expertises, among others; including dashing good-looks.

"You just had a great loss."

"Get out you nosy git!" Hermione pushed Draco out of her room. Draco tried to yank her hands away from his back but it was too late. He was already within the Heads' Common Room.

"Don't you ever lay your hands on me again, Mudblood!" Draco furrowed his brows, his cold grey eyes glaring daggers at Hermione. Oh yes, the M word_ again. _Hermione rolled her eyes and turned her back on him. Closing the door of her room, Draco quickly pressed his hand against the wooden door.

"Before you cry your mud-coloured eyes out, _Saint_ Potter wanted to talk to you."

"You talked to him?" she said, surprised.

"As much as I despise it Granger, Heads needs to be civilized with _everyone_."

Closing her eyes, she nodded. She was tired from sobbing and the very thing she desired was for Draco to disappear. As he crossed the Common Room towards the door to his room, she pushed her door close. Once inside, she continuously knocked her head against the door gently.

_Why does this have to be so hard for you, Hermione? Why?_ She thought, between her knocks. Turning around, guilty conscience aroused. Everything was a mess and by the sight within her room, it looked very promising that it would take her an hour or more to tidy things up.

Stepping forward, she bent down to grab a crumpled piece of parchment. It had a seal of the company that the Grangers worked for. Reading the letter, it was one of the six letters she had received concerning the death of her father. Bored with the same old story, she crumpled it even more and threw it into the rubbish bin beside her desk along with the inkbottles scattered all over the floor.

After half an hour, no scattered papers or empty inkbottles were left on the floor. The only remains were shattered glass, Hermione decided to magic it all away later. A very grimy Hermione crawled out under the desk, sneezing. Dust particles had been obviously inhaled. Standing up as she wiped her sweaty forehead with the back of her hand, she glanced on the clock. It was already eight-thirty in the evening and before she forgot, she had to meet up with Harry.

"Accio towel!" she cried and her closet opened. A very bright pink towel landed in her hand. Crossing the threshold of the loo, she happily allowed the warm water bathe her.

-000-

She was, once again, inside her comfort zone. The Gryffindor Tower, where the brave students were sorted, hadn't changed that much. As she entered the portrait, a big painting of the Gryffindor crest framed with gold would welcome the student who entered. Two stairs situated on both of her sides would lead to the dormitories, boys on the left and the girls on the right.

The hearth of the Common Room was lit, crackling sounds of the fire played in her ears. Heaving a sigh, Hermione advanced towards the chesterfield and plopped herself on it. Wandering her eyes around the Common Room, she heard footsteps growing louder, as she turned, she saw Dean Thomas, coming from the boys' staircase.

"Hi Dean!"

"Hey, Hermione!" he greeted, surprised with her presence. "I thought being a Head wouldn't leave you much opportunity visit us with your busy schedules?"

She shrugged and smiled, "I guess I just miss you all so much that I needed to squeeze the Gryffindors into my schedule."

Dean beamed. Hermione smiled even more. "Look, have you seen Harry anywhere? We're supposed to meet. I just don't know where."

"Oh Harry?" he said, scratching his nose. "He's upstairs."

"Thanks Dean." Hermione stood up and went for the boys' dormitory.

When she arrived at the landing, she was about to open the door but, the door handle twisted. After a couple of seconds, Harry Potter appeared in front of her. His hair was messed up and eyes dozy, probably woken up with something.

"Hermione, I was expecting you." Harry then fully opened the door, making way for her to come inside.

As she crossed the threshold, she found that no one else was inside apart from Harry. Ron's bed, across Harry's, was piled up with books. Smiling about Ron's lack of tidy habits, she walked towards his bunk and was surprised to see a muggle picture laid on top of his Potion's book. It was taken during the summer at Hermione's place. Hermione's parents had invited the Weasleys for a small gathering with regards to Mrs. Granger's birthday. In the picture, beside Arthur was her father, Martin Granger.

Hermione stared at the picture, enjoying the look of her father. Her smile faded suddenly and her face fell. She cursed the day of her birthday. She cursed the heart disease her father had.

"Hermione, I just want to talk to you. To check if you're okay," Harry said, sitting in his bed. Hermione turned and advanced towards the bed beside Harry and sat upon it, the both of them face to face.

"I'm okay," she mumbled, resting her chin in her palms. Harry leaned, unsure whether she was telling the truth. Hermione glanced away, and then turned her attention to the hem of her shirt. Silence took place but after a minute or two, her lips twisted. She couldn't hold back her tears much longer.

"I don't know Harry. It was like one second he was with me and then after that, he fell to the floor and he was… gone."

Harry settled beside Hermione and pulled her for an embrace. The heat of her body made his much warmer. It was a tender moment for him. Hermione leaned her head on his shoulder, crying even more. Since she got back to Hogwarts, no one tried to talk to her. It was either they thought she doesn't want anyone to speak with her for the meantime or they were giving her time to grieve. They didn't know what she needed was someone who could comfort her.

Harry kissed the top of her head. He had missed the fragrance of her hair, sweet and appealing. Over their summer vacation, he hadn't much seen her since Professor Dumbledore asked him to distance himself from the ones he loved. Voldemort might use the Weasleys and the Grangers as bait for Harry's death.

"I'm sorry I hadn't attended the funeral, Dumbledore told—"

"No, it's fine Harry. I understand."

Hermione broke their hug and looked directly at Harry. She knew something was going on between them since the last term, none of them just wanted to face the truth. Harry gulped and stood up.

"No Hermione, it's not."

Hermione bit her lip, "I had expected that you would come, though."

Harry plopped on his bed, sighing. "But you know that if it wasn't because of Dumbledore, I would have been there right?"

Hermione nodded.

"So, how's your first day?" he asked.

"I don't really know. I've been inside my room the entire time…" She trailed off, her eyes watery.

"Has Malfoy been acting like a git, much?"

"Nearly, Harry, just nearly," she chuckled.

Harry looked at her and smiled. There was really something appealing about Hermione, he just couldn't point what. Apart from her intelligence and bravery, there was something more to her.

"Ron's at Quidditch practice in case you're wondering."

"Why aren't you there?" she said, looking at him quizzically.

"There are far more important matters than Quidditch, Hermione. Like you," he responded, taking off his glasses. Hermione bent down her head, reddening. After cleaning his glasses with his bed sheet, he pushed them over the bridge of his nose.

"Look, why don't we eat dinner. I'm starving."

Hermione stood up, "Great idea. Me too."

-000-

"Pygmy Puffs!"

Hermione cried at the Heads portrait. Depicted within the frame was a man in his late twenties, wearing a blue suit with a white tie. His head was crowned with red hair and his eyes were round as a galleon. He stood with his chin up, making the impression that he was something to be greatly looked up at. Hermione found him quite amusing. _A man dressed with laughable garments wouldn't be looked up at, I tell you._

"Hello, mademoiselle." the clown-looking man greeted, bowing with poise. "I haven't seen you since the first day of the term."

"I've been away…" she replied. "Family problems."

"I wish all is well now." The huge frame slid open. "In you go."

Hermione chuckled and curtsied, "Thank you, Pierre."

As she entered inside the Common Room, she heard the flapping sound of book pages. Looking up on the second story of the tower, she saw a certain blond seated with books piled on top of the table in front of him. If she wasn't mistaken, Draco Malfoy was doing his homework. _Ferret wants to prove himself, thinks he can try to be better than me._

Turning to the direction of her room, Draco suddenly called her.

"Granger, get up here."

"Why?" she asked bluntly, not turning around.

"Just get up here."

"Malfoy, I'm weary and I want to go to sleep."

"Granger, when I say get up here, I mean get up here!" Draco said as he slammed the book shut. "Why are you so difficult?"

Hermione groaned and stomped her foot. "Fine!"

Draco mischievously smiled. Once Hermione arrived at the landing, he stood up and walked towards her in a struggling manner. "I owled my father."

Hermione blinked a few times. _Why is he telling this to me?_ "I'm not interested."

Draco shook his head, chuckling deviously. "You see, I got my feet bloody. That's why I'm limping."

"So?"

"So you're the one to blame."

"Why?" she answered, taken aback. "I hadn't done anything to cause your bloody feet."

Draco scratched his chin. "Yes you did. The shattered glass."

"What were you doing inside my room?" she yelled. "Haven't I told you are out of bounds?"

"Shut up, Granger. I didn't go inside your little paradise." he snapped, forehead wrinkled. "There were bits of glasses outside your door."

"This isn't making any sense. Good night, Malfoy."

Hermione spun around and strode down the staircase. _His feet just got a cut and he had owled Lucius for that? _

"Granger!"

"What now?" she asked, still walking.

"Condolences to your family."

Hermione suddenly stopped. Slowly, she turned and wonderingly stared at him. Draco snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Look, it doesn't mean Purebloods don't lose people too! So, stop looking at me like that. Goodnight."

_**AN:**__ I thank you my wonderful beta, Dreamstallion33. Review guys. Thank you so much._

_**Disclaimer:**__ Harry Potter's world belongs to Ms. JK Rowling. _


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